The Best Camera? The One You Have With You

My first camera was a Canon 35mm SLR with a kit lens. It was a Christmas gift from mom and dad close to twenty years ago. Besides their love, and my eduction, that camera was perhaps the greatest gift my parents even gave me. While there was a period of time during which I put the camera down (film can be a hassle) there was never a time where I didn’t see things around me and consider how I’d capture the moment on film.

My reawakening happened one overcast afternoon London, England. I was with my wife and in-laws, walking the streets, just taking in the amazing sights, and suddenly I wished, out loud, that I had my camera. “Wait a minute. You do!”, exclaimed my wife. “Huh?” I replied. Then I suddenly realized… my iPhone!

Those were pure moments. I wasn’t worried about megapixels or a fancy lens. In that moment I became a believer that the best camera is the one you have with you. The simplicity of that experience reawakened the love. Sharing those captured moments with friends was the glue that made it all stick. I have since upgraded my megapixels but that moment reminds me never to take that, or myself, too seriously.

Sanford Road

A while back I listed my first real camera on eBay; a Canon EOS Rebel X 35mm SLR with a 35-80mm lens. It was a Christmas gift from mom and dad probably close to twenty years ago. I had it on there for 6 days and five hours before deciding to cancel the sale. I decided I’d rather keep it so it now sits on a mini tripod stand on the book shelf inside the entrance to my office.

While the old camera is now more decoration, it reminds me of friends, family, home and of Sanford Road. Here are a few pictures from home I took with that old camera.

This place was named “Goode Stuff”; a second hand your junk is someone else’s treasure shop. The guy who owned the place’s name was Chuck and he was a real character. His other job was running the other actual town trash dump. I wish I had a picture of the store’s signage.

I don’t remember this gentleman’s name who lived here but if you waved at him he would wave back really big. I never missed a chance as I drove by. I saw him each day on my way home from school, him sitting there, thinking deep thoughts I suppose. I wish he’d been there the day I took this picture. I do not have a clue why he was not.

This last picture is a house was right around the corner and down a hill from where I grew up. I didn’t know the old timer who lived there but dad once said he was a good fellow.